


Bad Blood

by MissLuxe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25656409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLuxe/pseuds/MissLuxe
Summary: Callie was well aware of the effect that family had on a person. It was why she had to keep her real name a secret. It was why her sleep was dominated by nightmares. It was why her her blood was considered, to put it simply, bad. But when Callie finds herself thrust into the spotlight in her sixth year, it seems like her best chance to survive lives in a certain ginger.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter One

The Sorting Hat had just barely left the last first year’s head before Callie had her book back open on the table. She bit the corner of her lip as she scanned the page, skimming over the words to find where she’d left off. There it was; the theoretical composition of the Water-Making Spell. She leaned in closer, fully engrossed by the diagram of runes and fully accustomed to keeping her literal and metaphorical head down to block out the world around her as she read. She no longer bothered to even half-listen to the speech, since anything important would be repeated and discussed endlessly anyways. Instead, she allowed all thoughts of the upcoming year and concerns about the dark events of the summer to flee in the face of her latest Charms ambition.

So it was that Callie was woefully unprepared for the elbow that connected sharply with her side, nearly knocking her face-first into a dish of potatoes. She straightened back up and cast about wildly around for the culprit, only to find Loretta giving her a  _ look _ that didn’t quite hide the amusement sparkling in her eyes. She leaned closer to Callie.

“Listen!” She hissed, eyes darting up to where Dumbledore was speaking and then back to Callie pointedly. Beside her, Daisy Corran was glaring at both of them.

Callie reluctantly closed her book and stowed it away again, tuning into whatever everyone else seemed so enraptured by.

“...the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year,” The headmaster was saying, drawing a collective gasp from most of the school.

This  _ did _ pique her interest, though likely not for the same reason as the others; could Hogwarts’ new quidditch policy be a response to the attacks at the World Cup? Surely they didn’t believe that it had been motivated by the  _ sport _ ? Then again, Minister Fudge had never struck her as an especially intelligent man…

Her musings were interrupted as Dumbledore continued.

“This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —”

He was cut off by a great rumble of thunder and the bang of solid wood on stone that accompanied the throwing open of the Great Hall’s doors. A grizzled, soaked figure limped in, leaning heavily on a long staff. Lightning flashed to illuminate his face.

Callie’s blood ran cold.

She could do nothing but watch, frozen, as ex-Auror Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody passed, magical eye darting around the hall before finding her face and staying there. She got the uncomfortable feeling that it remained trained on her even once his back was to her and that thought, coupled with the overwhelming sense of foreboding that was creeping over her, made her shiver.

Callie knew exactly who the man was without listening to Dumbledore’s introduction; he was the man who had brought her parents in, the reason that they had been locked in Azkaban for the last thirteen years of her life. He was the man who could ruin her life. For, unbeknownst to her fellow students, her name was very much  _ not _ Callie Tonks. She was Callisto Cassiopeia Lestrange, daughter of two of the most hated criminals the wizarding world had seen and unwitting witness to far too many of their crimes. If the truth got out, she would certainly be torn to shreds before she could make it to the door. The mental image turned her stomach. Loretta shot her a look of concern, but she could only shake her head and brush it off.

‘Come on, Callisto, get it together,’ She tried to slow her pulse. ‘They’ve let you stay for six years, why would that change now? Dumbledore would have warned Auntie Andy before you showed up. You’ve done nothing wrong, nothing even  _ close _ to wrong. You weren’t even  _ at _ the World Cup.’

Her logical side, as usual, won over and she felt her heart rate begin to slow back down. She did her best to push away her fear of the ex-Auror and forced herself to focus on the headmaster again. It wasn’t a moment too soon.

“It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

Now  _ there _ was a logic puzzle to distract herself with! Why bring such a dangerous competition back after so many years? What would the tasks be like? Was it the Ministry or the schools that had pushed for this? Would the participants be volunteers, or was there a chance that she’d be required to compete? How much extra attention would this bring to the school, and what were the chances it could spill over onto her? Would the papers try interviewing students? Would her picture be taken?  _ That _ was a scary thought.

Callie followed the rest of her house absently after their dismissal, lost in the whirlwind in her mind, as they made their way up to Ravenclaw Tower with the new first years in tow. Even the familiar bed and warm sheets weren’t enough to soothe her, and she laid awake for hours until her body overrode her thoughts and forced her into unconsciousness. Her dreams were plagued by storms and vague memories of her parents, crooning at her even as they disfigured their victims. It was a long night.

* * *

Despite the nasty surprises and nightmares of the previous night, Callie was having a rather pleasant first day. Flitwick had praised her after class for the progress that she’d made with the more advanced charms he’d given her, and McGonagall had shocked them all with no written assignment. Lunch had even featured her favorite - steak and kidney pie. Such were her high spirits that she allowed Loretta to steal her book and drag her off with merely a giggle. But, as they approached the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, the light feeling diminished and her throat began to feel too tight. Callie fiddled with her tie as she filed in with the other Ravenclaws, slipping quietly into the seat next to Loretta as the other girl peered around the room in fascination.

“What do you think’s in all those jars?”

Callie squinted at the shelf in question before wrinkling her nose and turning away.

“Nothing good, I bet. Hopefully we won’t find out.”

“Oh, come on, Cal! What do you have against Professor Moody? He can’t possibly be worse than Lockhart.”

That succeeded in drawing a giggle from her and Loretta grinned in triumph.

“Merlin, we’re lucky to have passed our OWLs after him. The idea of that man teaching our NEWTs classes…” Callie shivered and dramatically laid a hand to her forehead.

“That’s the spirit! If only Professor Lupin was still around; he actually taught, at least.” Loretta shot her a sly look. “And he was quite fit, to boot.”

Callie rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the hush that fell over the room as Moody appeared at the door with a scowl. Even as she tried to quell the sudden racing of her heart, she had to admit that she was impressed he’d been able to so easily quiet even the assembled Gryffindors.

“You can put those away. You won’t need them,” He growled, jabbing a gnarled finger at the textbooks everyone had out on their desks.

A surprised murmur rippled through the space as they hurried to comply, but silence soon fell again as Moody took out a register.

“Right then, be prepared to move; I’ve assigned seating for the lot of you.”

Only a few students on the Gryffindor side dared to grumble, but Callie was still too focused on the anxiety that the ex-Auror sent coursing through her to take notice of who they were.

‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ She told herself. ‘Dumbledore’s certainly made him aware of my situation. Besides, my real name is only listed on official documents, not class lists.’

Moody began reading through the list with an air of disinterest, assigning students to seats seemingly at random. His magical eye darted up at every name he read but returned to the paper just as quickly without lingering. Nobody dared to argue with his choices. Loretta let out a barely audible sigh and squeezed Callie’s hand as she moved to go sit by a vaguely familiar boy who had been identified as ‘Jordan, Lee’. The dullness of the process was comforting, and Callie found herself beginning to relax. She was at the end of the alphabet, after all, and by that point would be able to gauge where she would be placed by process of elimination. She idly wondered exactly what had possessed him to mix up the class in the first place. Perhaps he-

“Lestrange, Callisto.”

Her heart froze. No, not her heart; her chest, her lungs, her everything from the tips of her ears to the bottoms of her toes were unbearably cold and completely locked into place. The class erupted in whispers and Loretta was shooting her a confused look. Before she could force herself to do something,  _ anything _ , that cursed name was coming out of his mouth again.

“Lestrange, Callisto Cassiopeia.” When there was again no response, Moody looked up and locked both magical and normal eyes with her. “Miss Lestrange, are you present?”

The tension in the air was palpable - every student who wasn’t a Muggle-born knew the name Lestrange. To think that one of those monsters walked the same halls as them… The class held its breath as they waited for her to deny it. To correct the blatant mistake. But Callie couldn’t tear her eyes from his gaze and could only stand there, transfixed and feeling oddly detached as she felt her mouth open.

“Here, Professor.”

That did it. A dull buzz filled the room as the students broke out into whispers, eyes wide. Those who were unfamiliar with Callie’s family history were quickly filled in. Moody didn’t appear fazed.

“You’ll be over there, Miss Lestrange.”

He finally broke eye contact, looking back down at the register, and she could move again. Callie made her way, unfeeling, to the indicated desk near the back and took her seat, focusing on the scuffed wood in front of her. She dimly noted that some previous student had carved a rather crude image into the surface. Her surroundings were a blur, and some indeterminate amount of time later she was finally jolted from her stupor by someone throwing themself heavily in the seat next to her. The implications of what had just happened flooded in, and she had to choke back the bile that was rising in her throat.

The careful, quiet life that she’d meticulously toiled to build was crumbling around her. Chancing a look around the room found nothing but dark looks directed her way. The boy beside her - one of the Weasley twins, she realized now - was leaning as far away from her as he could and had fixed her with a steady glare. She hurriedly returned her attention to scrutinizing the flaws in her desk.

Callie had to face the facts; for all her careful planning and longing for normalcy, her parents would always ruin it. She found she wasn’t actually surprised. After all, she was all too aware of the results of bad blood.


	2. Chapter Two

Word spread like fiendfyre, as it was wont to do at Hogwarts. Not to mention the news itself; the exposure of a secret child of one of the most notorious Death Eaters of all time, hiding in plain sight amongst the children of the wizarding world for six years? That would be enough to fuel the rumor mill for months.

The buzzing of the Great Hall came to an abrupt halt as Callie appeared in the doorway before returning even louder and more furious than before. She hesitated for a moment, rocking on her toes on the threshold. But she couldn't just stand there forever, and she reasoned to herself that she would at least be less visible sitting down. So she ducked her head and hurried to the Ravenclaw table as every eye in the room seemed to bore into her. She nearly threw herself onto the bench.

"Callie?" A hesitant voice asked. She looked up to find Loretta beside her, staring intently. There was a conspicuous distance between them, and as Callie took in her surroundings she realized that no one else was sitting within a meter of her. "Callie, it isn't true… is it? I mean, what Professor Moody said… It's not possible. Your last name is Tonks. It's _always_ been Tonks." She gave a breathy little laugh that verged on hysteria.

Callie swallowed.

"It's true. My- Aunt Andromeda raised me. That's why I go by Tonks."

"But Callie- You wouldn't- You _can't_ \- You didn't tell me?"

"I'm sorry Lory, really. I wanted to tell you so badly, but they made me promise I wouldn't! They said it might cause a disturbance, might make people treat me differently-"

A strangled scoff forced itself from Loretta's throat.

"Treat you differently? _Treat you differently?_ I wonder why?" She looked half-crazed. "People had a right to know! _I_ had a right to know! And you- you just lied to me? You used me, kept me in the dark all along-"

"Lory, I didn't-!"

" _Don't call me that!_ Your mother is a monster! Your whole family are monsters! Keep my name out of your mouth, _Lestrange!_ " Her last words rang out eerily in the sudden silence as she snatched up her bag and stalked away to the other end of the table, leaving all eyes on Callie. She shrank under the weight of their collective gaze, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes. How had everything gone so wrong so fast? Why couldn't she have just denied it, or done anything instead of freezing like a coward?

The steady glares continued in her direction. When it became clear that she would get no peace, she fumbled to shoulder her bag and extricate herself from the bench. It wasn't like she was missing much; the smell of food had only served to further turn her stomach. As she hurried to escape, she found herself suddenly careening to the floor, legs locking together. Snickers erupted behind her and Callie distantly heard Professor McGonagall berate someone before the jinx was reversed. Footsteps approached, but Callie scrambled to her feet and dashed out of the hall before whoever it was could reach her.

It was only once she was safely locked in a bathroom stall that she allowed her tears to fall freely and her sniffles to become sobs.

* * *

After having one of the worst days of your life, things can only go up. Right?

Wrong.

If anything, things only got worse for Callie and any numbness that might have shielded her from it was long gone. After her breakdown in the bathroom, she'd crept up to Ravenclaw Tower with the intention of slipping into bed before anyone finished dinner. But she'd arrived to find her bed already stripped of its sheets and blankets. Even the pillows were gone. All Callie could do was draw the curtains and curl up on the bare mattress, hoping that a lack of reaction would cause them to grow bored and leave her alone.

It didn't. She woke early to find herself the shivering victim of a freezing charm. An attempt at a hot shower found that the water had been similarly affected - she was too cold and miserable to think through the counter-spell - and her toiletries stolen. Sighing, she settled on a warming charm and pulled on her discarded uniform from the day before because - of course - her other clothes had mysteriously vanished. Callie was silently thankful that Auntie Andy had drilled her arsenal of household spells into her so that she at least looked presentable and didn't smell. Nym would have been in trouble. She probably would have hexed somebody by now. The thought of her cousin gave Callie a brief wave of comfort. Of course, Nym was from a perfectly respectable family and thus wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. The comfort fled.

If possible, breakfast was an even worse affair. Despite the stress of the morning, she was still earlier than most and content to eat quickly and avoid further hassle. She chose a seat at the far end of the table where she would be the least conspicuous, immediately setting about making herself a plate. Or rather, trying to; every time she reached for a dish it would hop just out of range, only to return once she'd stopped. Summoning and counter-spells were useless. If it had been any other situation, Callie might have been impressed by the complexity of the magic. Instead, she resigned herself to the humiliation and resumed her efforts to nab something to eat. Surely one of the professors would notice eventually. Flitwick was always kind despite her family tree and McGonagall had little patience for bullying. Though perhaps now that she'd been outed-

The feel of metal beneath her fingers brought Callie's attention back to the table. She'd somehow managed to snag a platter of kippers! The spell must have worn off, or someone had taken pity on her and removed it themselves. She allowed herself a small smile and made for the tureen of porridge - but it hopped away just as it had before. Just as everything else did when she tried; everything, that is, except for the kippers. Callie's heart lurched and the sudden reversal of her emotions made her a bit queasy as she stared down at the fish. This hurt more than if she'd been forced to starve; there was only one other person in the castle who knew how much she despised kippers.

She had been able to dismiss everything else as harassment committed by students who knew no better and were fueled by prejudice and gossip. The sabotage in her dorm could have been done by anyone in Ravenclaw. But not this. In singling out the kippers, Loretta might as well have signed her name in giant block letters. This was personal.

Callie had never actually expected to go to Hogwarts at all, instead accepting that her cousin's stories would be the closest that she would ever get. Then Auntie Andy and Aunt Cissy - in the one and only time that they had worked together in Callie's memory - had petitioned Dumbledore and the Board of Governors. To Callie's shock, she was enrolled - albeit with strict instructions to hide her identity. She had been too excited and grateful to argue. Not that she would have, anyway. The burden of secrecy and her quiet nature constrained her social life, though most Slytherins seemed unusually friendly, if not wary, towards her (she suspected that some of their parents might have warned them to be nice without revealing exactly why). But somehow she'd attracted an extroverted young Loretta Cornhill and they'd become fast friends. Like any friendship, theirs was not without its struggles; Loretta could never understand why Callie was so loath to do anything that would bring attention to her and Callie found that she preferred extra studying to keeping up with Loretta's busy social calendar. She had known that someday Loretta would find out her real name, but Callie had always assumed that it would be her to break the news after they graduated. Sure, there would be a fight, but Loretta would see why it had been necessary and appreciate her coming clean when she could.

Callie had never expected that Loretta would punish her for it, allying herself with the people who only saw another monster when they looked at her. She had never imagined that it might end their friendship; because that's what was happening, wasn't it? Why else would Loretta be so blatant about her anger?

Callie stared down at the kippers, folding her hands into her lap to hide their trembling. Perhaps she deserved punishment after all. She _had_ lied to the one friend she had. She hadn't even thought about how it might make Loretta feel or how it might reflect on her once word got out. And worse than lying, she'd _seen_ things. Horrible things that now flashed across her mind's eye and made her stomach roil. Things that she'd done nothing to stop, despite her lack of agency and young age.

She pushed away from the table and hastily left the Great Hall, only barely restraining herself from breaking out into a run as she registered the scrutiny of those around her. Callie kept her eyes trained on the floor and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She walked on autopilot, following the familiar path back to the safety of her bed and allowing the walls to melt into a blur around her. She picked up the pace once she was alone, rushing around a corner.

SLAM!

Something hard collided with her chin and she stumbled back, righting herself at the last moment. All thoughts of her situation temporarily fled.

"Ow..." She rubbed at her face and looked around.

There was a blond fourth-year boy in Gryffindor robes sprawled on the flagstone floor. His face was screwed up in pain and he was clutching his forehead.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," Callie rushed over to kneel beside him, drawing her wand. "Are you alright? Here, let me see."

The boy turned to her, blinking, and blanched. His face grew impossibly pale and tinged green as he stared up at her with wide eyes.

Her stomach dropped. He was one of the few Gryffindors outside of her year that Callie knew: Neville Longbottom. Everything came rushing back.

"Er- I-" He stammered, eyes darting from her face to her wand and back again.

She stowed it slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, and stood.

"Right, um, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." She spun and ran, no longer caring if anyone stared. Screams only she could hear echoed after her.

* * *

Callie spent the rest of the morning period curled up on her bare mattress, bed curtains drawn tightly and magically sealed. She stewed in her own misery - deservedly so, in her opinion - and contemplated staying there the rest of the day. But the thought of Snape's sour face and missing out on valuable instruction energized her enough to get moving. She had to get every last bit of knowledge that she could while she was still at Hogwarts; she'd heard her peers' not-so-subtle announcements of their owls to their parents and knew it was only a matter of time before she was expelled. The thought made her queasy.

She got out of bed with plenty of time to make it down to the Potions classroom in the dungeons but ended up walking into class five minutes late. Her bookbag had been emptied, with all of her books missing. Callie was certain that her wand would have been stolen if she hadn't kept it with her - _that's_ how much they hated her. Then she'd been the victim of no less than six jinxes and hexes on her way through the school. She could feel a bruise forming on her elbow already.

Snape glanced at her when she walked in but didn't pause in his lecture, to her relief. Perhaps he thought she should have been sorted into his house. The Slytherins seemed to think so; a boy she vaguely recognizes as Cassius Warrington shoots her a grin and indicates the open seat beside him. Having had no real interactions with him before, whether positive or negative, and slightly warmed by the first sign of friendliness she'd been shown in twenty-four hours, Callie hurried to the front of the room to join him. She could feel the glares like daggers in her back.

Callie sat with Slytherins in the rest of her classes after that. They shared their textbooks with her and she was grateful for the brief respite, despite the odd combination of watchfulness and pride that they often displayed towards her. She had never been prejudiced toward their house, having grown up with Auntie Andy, so the additional whispers that followed her new partners were less troublesome; she knew that those, at least, were unfounded. The Slytherins also helped to deter the countless pranks that she was subjected to when not under the watchful eyes of the professors. Increasingly she found herself traversing the corridors at the same time as groups of green-clad students. The hexes dropped to a small but steady trickle.

Whether it was a result of her new Slytherin allies or not, Callie's life settled enough that she was able to get used to her new normal. That first lunch after Potions was nothing but fish again, but McGonagall ended the situation at dinner so that Callie could eat in relative peace, isolated at her own end of the table near the staff. In classes, nobody dared to do more than pelt her with charmed paper balls, and she was similarly protected in the library; Callie spent most of her time there, reached only by the nasty whispers that followed her ceaselessly. She studied every waking moment that she got, attempting to commit vast tomes to memory, and only returned to Ravenclaw Tower when curfew was almost upon her. Her bed remained stripped and her things missing, but she got quite adept at warming and cleaning spells. If her roommates spoke loudly about her or complained that Flitwick refused to let them change rooms, she pretended not to hear it.

Her cousin approached her in the library one evening, soon after she'd established her new routine. She'd sat up straight and closed her book when she realized he was standing there.

"Hi," She said hesitantly, trying for a smile. Her cheeks felt stiff at the motion and she was sure that it turned out more pained than she'd wanted.

"Hello Callisto," He confidently offered his hand. "I'm Draco Malfoy. We're cousins through our mothers, as I'm sure you're aware."

She shook his hand, well aware of who he was, though they had not spoken in years. They had played together when they were younger and she visited his family for her mandatory etiquette lessons, but once they'd reached Hogwarts the lessons had ended and they had both stuck to their own circles.

"Oh, yes, of course I remember you. You can call me Callie."

Draco looked slightly put off by the overfamiliarity of the name but gave her a short nod. They stared at each other in silence for an awkward moment. Callie had the strange feeling that he was studying her, waiting for her to do something specific.

"You look just like your mother," He said finally. The thought made her shudder, but Draco didn't seem to notice. "I don't remember her, of course, but I've seen pictures. She's a great beauty, with the classic Black looks."

"Er, thank you," Callie managed. "You have the Malfoy features."

He preened under the praise, easing some of her tension.

"Is there anything that I can assist you with, Cousin Draco?"

"Actually, I'm here to offer my assistance to you. I'm aware that you've been the target of unjust treatment, and I and my House offer you our formal support." He puffed up his chest importantly.

"Oh, er, thank you. I am very grateful for your support. Please let me know if there is anything that I can offer in return." Callie hadn't had to exercise the formal Wizarding customs in so long, she was lucky she wasn't too rusty.

"Actually…" He looked thoughtful and glanced at the books open on the table before her. "Some of the younger students have been looking for tutors, and Mother and Father have been pushing for me to do some advanced studying. Perhaps you could help?"

Callie smiled. Tutoring, she could certainly do.

"I would be happy to help."

She returned to her bed that night in slightly higher spirits and felt almost content at the thought of regular pleasant human interaction before sleep claimed her and the nightmares returned.


End file.
